


Day 1: Welcome Home

by Dimirti



Series: 31 Days of McHanzo [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-09 20:37:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12896316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dimirti/pseuds/Dimirti
Summary: He felt a fear in the pit of his stomach. Their comms had gone dead and he had no way of knowing if McCree had survived or where he'd gone. He kept glancing out the window, not knowing if anyone even knew where to find him. He had to hope, because, he realized, he had nothing to go on without it.





	Day 1: Welcome Home

Hanzo scrambled to get things in order. The place had been orderly, if only a bit dusty, but his movements were born of anxiety, more than an actual desire to clean. He and McCree had gotten caught out, the mission was a success but in their insistence to make a path for the others to leave, they'd been separated. Both from the team and each other

Winter wasn't all too unfamiliar to Hanzo, but it didn't mean he enjoyed the cold weather any more. He'd trudged the long path through the snow to the safe house in the nearby woods. It was more an old-fashioned cabin, built from wood and lacking a majority of modern technological conveniences. Hanzo was simply grateful for the fact it had a fireplace and no leaks. 

He felt a fear in the pit of his stomach. Their comms had gone dead and he had no way of knowing if McCree had survived or where he'd gone. He kept glancing out the window, not knowing if anyone even knew where to find him. He had to hope, because, he realized, he had nothing to go on without it. 

He would scrub pristine surfaces, and dust even long after the cobwebs had been cleared. He was going on days now, gathering wood, chopping logs despite the weather, more cleaning. Keeping his hands busy.

He'd always glance out that window. The panes over the kitchen sink had started to frost and the weather gave signs of getting worse. He felt a sense of dread wash over him, and he knew that if McCree were still out there, time was running out.

He stopped glancing out the window, each moment that he saw only white and evergreen left him increasingly terrified and incredibly bitter. He had to wait. He stoked the fire, tossing on another log to bring back the flames.

He started when the door slammed open. He didn't have his weapon close enough. He cursed under his breath.

"Any longer out there and I'd catch my death...." 

Hanzo's eyes widened. Despite the obvious shiver in the voice, it was all he needed to hear. It didn't take much to clear the couch as he lept over it. He needed to hold him, to feel him, to know he was _real_. 

Hanzo's arms wrapped around McCree so tight, the man was wheezing. He loosened his grip just enough when McCree was tapping rapidly on his arm. McCree laughed lightly moving the both of them just enough to shut the door.

"Easy, darlin'. You make it seem like you missed me."

Hanzo laughed, leaning back just enough to press his lips to McCree's, ignoring, for the moment, the chill that clung to every inch of the man.

Despite the place being temporary, despite the circumstances, Hanzo felt warm with knowing McCree was safe. Cold, but very much alive. He pulled back to meet McCree's eyes, his own wet with tears he was trying in vain to resist.

"Welcome home, Jesse..."


End file.
